


Drops of sunlight

by Tossukka



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, Headcanon, M/M, Modern Era, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-11
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-18 11:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tossukka/pseuds/Tossukka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I watched you die. It was my fault.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drops of sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> Um. So I wanted to feel better after 5x05 and ended up crying while writing this? Nice try, self. But it’s still fix-it fic, definitely, because fixing it in another life still counts, right? RIGHT?
> 
> Warnings for **spoilers for episode 5x05** and maybe one bit dubious kiss if you want to read it like that.
> 
> Thanks again for the beta, Seth!

## Drops of sunlight

Merlin woke up gasping for breath and the first thing on his mind was,

_Arthur will never know._

For a moment, Merlin was overwhelmed. He could feel everything in the room vibrating, every living organism calling out to him. He could feel the gentle thrumming of rain against the roof and windows, the feeling shaking the very core of his soul, and the potted plants next to the window searching for the drops of sunlight among the grey of the dawn. He felt the bacteria all over the room and his clothes (and maybe he should clean up, not that it was dirty or untidy, but that amount of micro-organisms _couldn’t_ be normal), moving and producing new cells. He could _feel_ every living thing moving, radiating, _existing_.

The flow of sensations was followed by a horrifying sadness. Merlin sat up in bed and felt wave after wave of soul-crushing grief seep into every part of his body, and when he touched his cheeks they were wet with his tears. It was not sadness caused by being tired, or physical hurt, or even that of losing a good friend and crying over it for three days. This was laced with guilt and foreshadowing and denying yourself; the kind of feeling you get when everything you’ve tried, everything you have done, fails, and the meaning of your life is slowly being carved away without you being able to do anything about it. It wasn’t sadness over losing a loved one; it was sadness over losing the very reason of your existence. 

“Merlin?” Arthur murmured next to him. “What is it?”

Merlin couldn’t contain his tears anymore. He pressed his cheek against Arthur’s chest, and sobbed. He wept over the feeling of dread, cried over the death of the man who was now petting his hair and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“Hey, hey,” Arthur whispered. “It’s alright, babe. You’re alright.”

“It’s not,” Merlin choked out, and inhaled the familiar scent of Arthur’s skin. “It’s not alright.”

“What’s the matter? A bad dream?”

“No,” Merlin answered. “It was something else. It was...”

Merlin couldn’t quite form the words, because they were too horrible to even think about, let alone say aloud.

Arthur remained quiet, but held Merlin a bit more tightly as he continued to run his hand through Merlin’s hair. It calmed him enough to let him speak.

“I watched you die. It was my fault,” Merlin said. He wasn’t exactly sure what made him think that. There were images at the edge of his mind, a dark-haired man killing Arthur, and Merlin _not being there to save him_. Short, disjointed pictures of Merlin saying words that could save Arthur but condemn himself, failing, making the wrong choice, making the choice that ensured Arthur’s fate...

But it was not this time and place. That had been years, centuries, ago. This had to have been in another life, because Merlin had images of swords and kings and magic and dragons. It didn’t belong in the same world as his clean sheets that still smelled of fabric softener and used condoms in a wastebasket and the soft hum of electricity in the room.

“I watched you die. I told you... Arthur, _I saw you die_.”

“So you finally remember,” Arthur said, pressing a kiss to Merlin’s hair. The sentence shouldn’t have made sense, but somehow it did. It made something click inside Merlin’s mind, because Arthur didn’t think Merlin was mad or dreaming things, but he _actually believed what Merlin said was true_.

“Wha... what?” Merlin stammered and lifted his head to stare at Arthur. His eyes were sore and aching, but the tears had stopped rolling at the shock.

“I wondered if you ever would.”

“Since when... Since when have you known?” Merlin asked.

“Ever since I met you,” Arthur said thoughtfully, and continued petting Merlin’s hair. “I thought you were such an idiot that first time, but the next night...” 

“Next night what?” Merlin demanded. He _had_ to know how much Arthur knew. His own memories were still scattered around just beyond his grasp and didn’t make much sense.

“I dreamed of loving a beautiful idiot. I dreamed of ruling a kingdom. I dreamed of being happy.”

Merlin gulped and stared at Arthur. The second time they had met Arthur had been weird and refused to even look Merlin in the eye. Merlin had feared he had insulted him somehow, and it had bothered him, even though he hadn’t liked Arthur back then. He had never asked Arthur about it; he had almost forgotten it by now, but this explained a lot.

The third time they had met Arthur had cornered him in a toilet and kissed him hard. Merlin had still hated him a bit, but the kiss had had a sense of rightness in it and had made his knees wobbly in seconds.

The fourth time had been their first date.

Arthur bit at his lip and spoke again,

“I dreamed of how much it hurt to know you didn’t trust me enough to tell me your secrets. How much it hurt to look and never being able to touch, because my feelings were wrong. How... how much it hurt to marry her and see you in the crowd. It took me a while to realise that I didn’t dream it. I remembered.”

Merlin gulped again. He remembered Gwen’s happy smile when she was crowned as the queen. Arthur had looked at Merlin before pressing the crown on her curls and helping her stand up. Merlin had spent the previous night and the following two crying in his room, but they had never talked about it, because it had been wrong. It had been impossible.

And that wasn’t the only thing they had never talked about.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said. “I wanted to tell you then. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t.”

“I knew, you know. I knew about the magic. I was just waiting for you to tell me. I wanted you to tell me. That night...” Arthur didn’t need to elaborate, because Merlin knew perfectly well what he was talking about. “I wanted to say something then. You were sacrificing so much. I didn’t know why then, I just trusted your judgment, but it was because of Mordred, wasn’t it?”

“Oh dear God, Arthur. We were so stupid. We _are_ so stupid,” Merlin said, and buried his face in Arthur’s chest. “You didn’t have to die. It was my fault.”

“Merlin,” Arthur said in an uncharacteristically gentle voice. Merlin remembered him using that tone with Gwen sometimes in the past. Never had he used it with Merlin. Never with him. He raised his head. “I’m right here,” Arthur said when he had Merlin’s attention. “I’m alive right now. I’m not going anywhere.”

The tone of voice was new to Merlin, but the way Arthur looked at him was so painfully familiar that Merlin didn’t know whether he should blush or turn his gaze away. He didn’t only remember the look from across the table in a restaurant or from this bed anymore; he remembered the numerous times Arthur had looked at him like that in the Great Hall, over the campfire, while Merlin was undressing and redressing him. Back then it had been impossible to touch, impossible to do more than look, but now...

Now Merlin could touch to make up for all those times he couldn’t, and he slid one hand from Arthur’s chest to his face. There was a horrible feeling of dread for a moment when a picture of Arthur cold and unmoving and covered in blood popped into Merlin’s head. Merlin was kneeling beside him on the field, exhausted beyond tears and feeling pain like he had never felt before. He had held Arthur’s body in his arms and _screamed_ , and all the fighting soldiers, every person that was still standing up on the field, near or far, had fallen down, but Merlin had continued screaming until his voice was hoarse and he finally felt the tears start leaking from his eyes. His heart had been shattered; his king, his best friend, the love of his life was dead, and it was all because of him. He might as well have killed Arthur with his own two hands.

But Arthur was here now. His skin warm and soft instead of cold and clammy, his eyes open and watching him, his chest rising and falling at the pace of his breathing.

“They said the circle of your fate will never end,” Merlin said. “What if... What if I can’t save you this time either?”

“Then we’ll meet again in the next life. Or the one after that. Or the one after that. If the circle is indeed never-ending it means you have to succeed at _some point_. You’re not completely useless after all,” Arthur said teasingly, and Merlin smiled against his skin.

“Does that mean I also have to wait till then for you to kiss me?” Merlin asked, and lifted his head. He didn’t want to move his other hand from Arthur’s chest, because he liked to feel the steady beating of Arthur’s heart against his palm.

Arthur pulled him into a kiss. Maybe, just maybe, this time would be different, less complicated, more successful. After all, where would any of them be if no one had ever given them a chance, and where would the two of them be now if they hadn’t gotten a second try? Maybe, for now, it was enough for them to just share this moment. 

They could worry about sharing a full lifetime later.

-fin-

**Author's Note:**

> I will stop with the episode codas at some point, I swear. STOP BEING SO INSPIRING, S5! Anyway, comments are appreciated as always.


End file.
